Burn
by Antigone1701
Summary: Captain Picard, discovering he has a long-lost daugher, must protect her from her own mother who seeks to kill her and destroy the Federation with a deadly reality altering weapon!


Prologue  
  
2345  
  
  
  
Her breathing had slowed, and the cramp in her back and legs was beginning to ease. She was tucked in between two large crates, lying down on a mat she had packed away for future use. She was still huddled in that same position she had been an hour or two before when she had sneaked on board the cargo ship, but this time, her thoughts occupied her attention.  
  
Her eye twitched.  
  
It was an annoying habit, one she had developed in childhood, and it always resurfaced when she was distressed.  
  
Why? Why, why, why, why, why? She chanted this over and over to herself, unable to find an answer. She closed her eyes and sighed.  
  
I know he wants me! I know it! I know it!  
  
She tried to change positions, but her belly, already swelling with child, made it impossible to move too much. The child had an annoying habit of kicking, and she was half tempted to punch back. She had little affection for her child, for it was a reminder of what she had lost.  
  
Him! Him, him, him! Not you!  
  
She hoped it was a boy. At least that way she could pretend. May be it would look like him. Would she grow to love it , or would she hate it more than she did now? At least it would be a male who loved her. But eventually he would leave. They all leave eventually.  
  
It had been that way for as long as she could remember. Her Daddy had left her mother and her. He had promised he would come back someday. He even forced her to be extra "good" at their "game" so he would have a reason to come back. But he never did.  
  
Her first boyfriend had left.  
  
She had tried to stop him, but he had merely pressed charges. They were dropped of course. No one could prove anything. She hadn't hurt him that bad. She just wanted him to stay.  
  
Stay, stay, stay! Why can't they stay? Why can't they....he...them...he stay?  
  
Her mind whirled in several different directions. She thought about her latest lover. He had been kinder than the others. That was why she wanted him. He was kind, authoritative, masculine, everything! But he couldn't stay. He wouldn't stay. He was like all the others.  
  
No! Not true, not true! Wasn't.... was... wasn't like the others. I want him more than the others. More, more, more! I'm tired of them leaving. Tired! Tired, tired! I'll find a way to get him back.  
  
The child inside kicked again.  
  
She frowned, and adjusted her position. Her hand went to her belly, where she felt the child inside her kicking. Why wouldn't it stop? He would have liked the child. He had told her he wanted children someday, after he had his career established. It was his first command. He wanted to be Captain for a while. That's why he left, she thought. That's all. It wasn't really her. He was just not ready yet.  
  
But someday, someday, someday, someday! Then you'll come back to me. When you get tired of being a Captain, you'll come back. Come back come back! You'll come back for your child too.  
  
The unexpected thought made her frown even more. He would want the child. If he ever knew about the child, he would want it.  
  
No! He has to want me! Me, me ,me, me, me! Not the child!  
  
She wanted to scream. He would want the child, possibly more than her. She couldn't allow that. She just couldn't!  
  
Reaching down into her bag, she pulled out the knife she had kept for defense. She knew it would hurt, but it was the only way. She had plenty of bandages and antiseptic. She knew all about medicine and could sew herself up back easily. It wouldn't' take long. Just one plunge into the womb. Just one.....  
  
She had the knife in position, was ready to plunge it into her belly, but stopped at the last minute.  
  
She loved him. She had to remember that. She always heard you should put the person you loves happiness above your own. He would want a child, and it would be hers and his. But could she bare for him to love the child more than her?  
  
Yes. If it was a boy, yes. She knew about the male bonding thing. She could deal with that. Besides, then she would have two men loving her instead of just one. She smiled at the thought, and slowly put the knife away.  
  
Yes, a boy would be perfect. Didn't men want their family name to be carried on? Her lover was very much into family history and honor. He would want an "heir". Maybe she could use that as leverage to get him to stay.  
  
Stay, stay, stay!  
  
She felt like jumping up and down with glee. She would finally have a man who stayed. Not one, but two!  
  
Unless it was a girl.  
  
The thought stopped her. She knew she couldn't deal with him loving the child if it was a girl.  
  
I'm the woman he has to love the most. Me, me, me! Not her! Her, her, her! I hate her ,her, her! Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate!  
  
She tried to calm herself down.  
  
She was a nice person. She wouldn't be hasty. She would simply have to wait until the baby was born. She didn't dare risk going to a doctor to check out the sex of the baby. "They" might find her. She would have to wait.  
  
If it was a boy, she would use him to get her lover back. If it was a girl........  
  
I'll burn that bridge when I come to it.  
  
Burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn............................................!!!!  
  
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Chapter One  
  
27 years later..............  
  
  
  
Captains Log: Stardate 54332  
  
We have just completed a month long scan of the entire Venaran sector of space where the U.S.S. Virgo disappeared. She has been the 2nd Starfleet vessel to disappear in the last six months, and our findings have been less than informative. Truthfully, my crew has been discouraged at the lack of evidence at our disposal. Even Mr. Data is frustrated, and we have now been ordered to rendezvous at Deep Space Two, where Admiral Cartwright of Starfleet intelligence has requested a private meeting with me on a seemingly unrelated matter, of which I know nothing about as yet.  
  
" What's our ETA Ensign?" asked Commander Riker from his command chair at the left of Picards. He hadn't meant for the question to come out snappy, but he could tell by the stiffening of the young Ensigns shoulders that he had spoken too harshly.  
  
Damn.  
  
" Two hours, fifteen minutes sir." answered the young man at the helm nervously. He was fresh out of the Academy, but his grades and his record had been good enough to get him on the Enterprise-E. Since he had been there, he had gone out of his way to impress Riker, a seemingly intimidating person at times, unlike his fiancée', Diana Troi, ships counselor, one of the warmest people on the ship. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get on the Commanders good side. Which was why, when the Commander came up and put his hand on the young Ensigns shoulders, he stiffened and looked up in surprise.  
  
" Sorry for being snippy Ensign, but we're all a little frustrated about not being able to find anything in the Venaran sector, not to mention nervous about anymore ships disappearing. I didn't mean to take it out on you." said the Commander apologetically.  
  
The young Ensign blushed.  
  
" It's okay sir. I understand. Sir, do you think we'll find out what's happening to the ships?" he asked innocently.  
  
Rikers determined yet gloomy expression made the Ensigns stomach turn.  
  
" I hope so Ensign. I really do hope so. Mr. Data, you have the bridge."  
  
"Aye sir." Responded the pale skinned android at the Conn.  
  
Riker beeped the door to the Captains ready room. At the familiar answer, Riker came in to find the Captain at his desk, going over reports and sipping a traditional cup of Earl Grey. At Riker's expression, Picard set his cup and padd down, knowing that his Number One had something serious on his mind.  
  
" Something I can help you with?" he prompted.  
  
" Perhaps. Sir, I know it was a Priority One Classified sub-space message you received from Admiral Cartwright. But I still can't helping feeling as though we're wasting time. You confided in me that the topic was seemingly unrelated to our mission, and I think it's pointless to concentrate on something unrelated, when the Federation has a virtual crisis on its hands." he answered.  
  
Picard rose from his desk and approached Riker.  
  
" I said 'seemingly unrelated' Number One. From what little information I got from the Admiral, I couldn't make a connection, but for all I know there is one. Make no mistake that Starfleet puts our mission at top priority, and I seriously doubt that a well trained, steady officer such as Admiral Cartwright would waste our time over trivial matters. In any event, we don't know. We will just have to trust that our time and efforts will not be wasted." he said reassuringly.  
  
Riker nodded.  
  
" Of course Captain. I'm sorry." Riker apologized.  
  
" There's no need for apology Number One. We're all frustrated. Why don't you go over that sub-space analysis with Mr. Data. See if you can find anything. At the very least it will keep your mind occupied." Picard suggested.  
  
" Thank you sir. I'll get right on it." Riker answered, and with that, left Picard alone with his own thoughts.  
  
The Earl Grey wasn't working.  
  
Normally a good steaming cup could do wonders for his psyche, but right now he could barely contain his confusion. Admiral Cartwright had mentioned a name that he hadn't heard in at least twenty-five years.  
  
Denise Eleanor Johnson.  
  
Small, petite and beautiful, yet intensely shy and uncertain, he had felt an immediate attraction to her from the moment he had agreed to give her passage aboard the U.S.S. Stargazer. After all, he had always had a thing for redheads, and she had seemed more than enthusiastic at the prospect of spending time with him. After a week of juvenile bliss, she had left him tearfully, clingingly, and he had given a heartfelt sigh of relief when he sent her on her way.  
  
He hadn't meant to be cruel, and truth to tell she had made him feel like a monster, but he sensed that she was unstable. She had almost insisted that he give up his career and marry her, and they hadn't even known each other a week! She had been almost livid when he refused her, then pathetically tearful when he said good-bye to her.  
  
He sighed, realizing he could barely make out her face. It had been so long ago, him with his first Starship command, her a beautiful young, doting woman at his beck and call. It had been juvenile and foolish to get involved with her, but his damnable arrogance and inexperience had taken over his common sense. He had long ago brushed it off as a lesson learned, and truthfully had almost forgotten the whole ordeal.  
  
So why had Admiral Cartwright brought her up? How in heavens name did he know about their brief affair twenty some odd years ago? No, twenty-seven years ago. Admiral Cartwright had been very specific about the number. Why? How? Who cared? Was it important?  
  
He had done some reading up on Denise Johnson's life. It seems he had been right about her instability. Soon after their departure, she had been institutionalized for three years on a planet in the Denmar sector. After being released she momentarily disappeared from known records, until seven years later when she had been arrested for attempting to attack her own daughter! Picard hadn't even known she had had a child, but from the records, the girl had been a little over ten at the time.  
  
The authorities found out Denise was wanted for breaking out of a mental institution fifteen years earlier, and had been returned to the facility and resided there ever since. The young girl was sent to live with her grandmother, who had remarried and resided on Vulcan. Records about the girls where abouts disappeared until she entered Starfleet Academy after receiving a record breaking score on her entrance exam.  
  
Picard briefly looked over the young woman's service record, impressed that she had managed to pull off a double major in Command and Security, a feat that few at the Academy could pull off. The picture the records showed him was old, her looking about sixteen, her reddish blond hair pulled back in a braid and an impish expression in her eyes that looked familiar. She had been twenty when that picture had been taken and hadn't seen fit to have it renewed.  
  
Alandra Renee' Johnson.  
  
Picard winced at the name Renee'. His nephew, also named Renee', had burned to death in a fire a little over a year ago. His nephews death had reminded him of all the things he had planned to do, but had never find the time, like having a family and children. The wound still ran deep.  
  
He saw from the report that she was on "special assignment", which usually meant that she was working for Starfleet Intelligence. Could that be what Admiral Cartwright wanted to discuss? Denise's daughter? Why should that concern him? And what the hell did that have to do with Starfleet's missing ships?  
  
He put the padd down and rubbed his weary eyes. The stress was getting to him, and what was so scary about that revelation was that he used to thrive on stress. If there wasn't something to be stressed over, he'd either read a good book or make something to stress over. He remembered a time on the Enterprise-D when relaxing had come natural to him after exploring strange new worlds and fighting the omnipotent powers of the Q Continuum. He had even taken a trip to Risa once, an excursion he would not soon forget.  
  
Yet even when he was rejuvenating, he still looked forward to going back to his ship and sitting in the Captains seat. He always looked forward to teaching Data a more human outlook on life, or listening to Geordi's brilliant innovations, or hearing about Riker's latest conquest, (although now that he and Deanna were engaged, those conversations had ceased).  
  
And now, he was tired.  
  
It wasn't that he still didn't care about his ship and crew. Truth to tell he loved his friends more than he would ever admit to out loud. And it wasn't that he had lost his sense of duty, or the need to "make a difference" as the famous Kirk had put it. On the contrary, he more than anyone was aware of how important his job was to the Federation. Yet still, in the dark hours of the night when he turned yet another chapter in Plato's, The Republic, he still knew deep in his soul that he was truly and utterly alone.  
  
Loneliness was not a feeling he was comfortable with. He enjoyed solitude, for he was a private man by nature. Perhaps it was the recent death of his brother's and his family that put him in this mood. Or perhaps it was merely misdirected frustration at their inability to find any evidence in regards to Starfleet's missing ships.  
  
Either way, he was close to burn out, both mentally and emotionally. He hated to admit it, ( and I mean really hated to admit it,) but he was getting older. Is this what getting older does to you? he thought. Do you automatically start thinking about your life and what you could have or should have done differently and then feel suddenly weighed down by this overwhelming sense of loneliness and fatigue?  
  
He had no answers.  
  
But he did have a mission.  
  
" Captain, we're approaching Deep Space Two," came Commander Riker's voice over the intercom.  
  
" On my way, Number One!" the Captain answered, rising from his desk.  
  
He stared at the face of the impish looking girl on the terminal screen and turned off his terminal.  
  
Whoever she was, he would find out. And he would find what exactly she had to do with those missing ships.  
  
Curiously, with her face in his mind, he didn't feel quite as melancholy when he stepped onto the bridge.  
  
  
  
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Admiral Cartwright was an elderly man with a chip on his shoulder the size of a football. Tall and gray haired, Picard could remember a time when the mans very presence made him shudder. Picard was not easily intimidated, but the mans curt responses and no nonsense attitude always set his teethe on edge.  
  
Which was why Picard was barely touching the food set in front of him. The restaurant on Deep Space Two, called the Alpha Stop, was reported to have the best food and the friendliest service. Yet despite the succulent looking fish in front of Picard, the mans presence across from him, along with the mans serious composure, made Picard lose his appetite quickly.  
  
"Not enjoying your dinner, Captain?" asked the Admiral in an almost accusatory voice.  
  
Picard cleared his throat nervously.  
  
" No, in fact, it's delicious. But I must confess I am somewhat curious as to the purpose of our meeting. Starfleet seems to have put our current mission at top priority, yet the matter which we discussed briefly seems to have absolutely no connection. I am anticipating learning the connection." said Picard smilingly, hoping to ease some of the hostility he sensed from the Admiral.  
  
Cartwright grunted in response.  
  
" I suppose that's your damnably annoying diplomatic way of telling me to get to the point. Understand that I would have preferred a more private place for this discussion, but I'm not a tolerant man and hysterics are unacceptable. Of course, your familiar with Denise Johnson?" asked the Admiral.  
  
Picard was even more confused than before, but he nodded his agreement.  
  
"Tragic case. History of mental illness and a tendency to become obsessed with her amours. I understand you were briefly involved with her about twenty-seven years ago. Since then, she's been in and out of mental hospitals. What you may not be aware of is that she recently escaped the San Francisco Mental facility on earth. What's more, we believe she is intent on finding her very own daughter and, sickening as it is, killing her." said the Admiral.  
  
Picard's mind reeled. What kind of woman was she? he thought. He remembered her being a bit clingy, and yes, perhaps unstable, but a killer? What's more, a woman who would murder her own child?  
  
" Admiral, I don't want to sound callous. That is of course a horrendous and tragic act for anyone to commit, and obviously the young woman should be protected. But exactly what does that have to do with me and the Enterprises current mission?" asked Picard frustrated.  
  
Cartwright frowned.  
  
" Captain, I have personally worked with Alandra Johnson. She has one of the most brilliant minds I've ever encountered. She's dedicated to duty, and while she may come across a bit opinionated and obstinate, there is no doubting her loyalty. Shortly after a.....difficult....period in her life, she went to work for Starfleet intelligence. She became a spy on Romulus and we had her up there with the big people. She was the assistant and personal secretary to the Princess Lianara, who as you know is now head of the Tal Shiar."  
  
Picard raised his eyebrows in disbelief.  
  
"The Emperor's daughter? How on earth.......?"  
  
" Don't ask me how Picard. From what I understand, her grandfather had some connections with the Unification movement, and was somehow able to plant the woman into the princesses' service. As you may have heard, the princess is no fool. Alandra would have had to go through extensive training in order to be believable. I'm sure you can appreciate what she has accomplished." asked the Admiral.  
  
Picard nodded.  
  
"I most certainly can Admiral. Tell me, do you believe it is possible that she knows something about the Princesses recent disappearance?" he asked curiously.  
  
The Admiral stiffened and looked uncomfortable.  
  
"That is something you will have to ask her Captain. Right now, I feel it is irrelevant." he replied curtly.  
  
Picard had the distinct impression that the Admiral wasn't telling him everything, but he dropped the topic and asked the Admiral to continue.  
  
"Well, despite Alandra's skills, she was eventually caught looking into confidential files and was sent to a Romulan prison camp. A Romulan defector aided her escape and together they stole a Romulan Bird of Prey, and made it safely home. Since then, she's been studying and looking for the missing pieces of the Rem Worintha. Do you know what that is?"  
  
Picard frowned.  
  
" I certainly do. It is the legendary gateway between realities. The Cincarens, who were a nomadic people, were believed to have the capability of jumping from one reality to another. The gateway they used was called the Rem Worintha, which means Gateway of Dreams. But when they died of a mysterious illness the pieces of the Rem Worintha were supposedly broken off and hidden on various planets the Cincarens have visited. It is a matter of great archeological debate as to whether or not it is a myth or actually exists. You say she is looking for it?" Picard asked, his interest perking at the thought of an archeological discovery.  
  
Cartwright nodded.  
  
" Alandra first found out about the Rem Worintha when the Tal Shiar began looking for it. Captain, if they found it, it could be used as a weapon. I've been told by her reports that she believes the Rem Worintha is no myth, but that she has in fact found one of the pieces already. She has a rather...diverse... crew who is helping her. They have manned the Romulan vessel and have maintained a cloaked status while on their search. Still, if my sources are correct, Denise is hot on Alandra's tail. Some how the woman has contacts and has been able to find out Alandra's mission. It might already be too late. Jean-Luc, you have to find Alandra and protect her. Nothing, absolutely nothing must be allowed to interfere with her mission!" exclaimed the Admiral.  
  
Picard frowned in deep thought.  
  
" Admiral, of course under normal circumstance I would be only too happy to divert the Enterprise to aid this young woman, and I certainly agree that her mission is important to the Federation. But we do have a crisis on our hands, and I still fail to see how this young woman's predicament affects me or our current mission." He protested, frustrated that the Admiral still hadn't answered his question.  
  
He jumped back when the Admiral pounded his fist on the table.  
  
" Damn it Picard, why do you have to be so bloody stubborn?! That woman's research and your mission are one and the same! It is the opinion of several scientists that the missing ships were transported to a different reality. Don't ask me how they know. Alandra's the one with all the scientific details. All we know is that somehow our ships are being transported out of our own space/time continuum. I have the order from Starfleet, Captain and it's sanction by the President herself. If I were you, I'd stop being so bloody obtuse and do my duty!" barked the Admiral.  
  
Picard sat up a bit straighter at the Admiral's reprimand. He wasn't used to being lectured or yelled at, and found he didn't like it one bit. He thought the theory about the ships disappearing into other realities to be a bit vague, and frankly, thought the search for the Rem Worintha was a wild goose chase. But if Starfleet, along with the President of the Federation, wanted him to find and protect this Alandra Johnson, then by God he would fulfill his duty to the letter.  
  
" Yes Sir!' responded Picard.  
  
By now the Admiral had calmed down, and seemed to look at the Captain with a speculative perusal that made Picard shift in his seat.  
  
" There is also another reason why this mission should interest you Picard. A more personal reason. You may or may not be aware that Denise Johnson seems to have formed a prolonged and certainly unnatural obsession with you. It is this very obsession which is driving her to find her daughter and kill her." Said the Admiral.  
  
" I'm afraid I don't follow you Admiral." answered Picard, for some reason dreading the Admirals response.  
  
" It is very simple Captain. Denise seems to have gotten the impression that you will return to her one day, only she wants you to return because of her and nothing else. Which is why she must destroy anything that might divert your affection from being totally focused on her.  
  
"It is believed that is the reason why she has had this hostility towards her daughter in the first place. She believes that your child would become more important to you than her. In short Captain, she is claiming that Alandra Johnson is your daughter."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Alandra Renee' Johnson wished murder wasn't against her principles.  
  
If it wasn't she wouldn't hesitate to blow the Ferengi scum grinning at her on the view screen into tiny pieces, and she would have done it with a smile on her face. But it was, so instead of killing the sadistic bastard, she had to keep her composure and negotiate for a dear friends life.  
  
" Come now, Magon. You have your payment. We've fulfilled our part of the bargain. Return my archeologist and maybe I won't tell anyone how unprofessional you can be. Such a reputation would be bad for business you know." She replied calmly, trying to make light of the situation.  
  
Her short, slender figure was attired in civilian clothes. She and her crew were posing as freelance archeologists, and had agreed to trade the Ferengi merchant twenty kilos of teronide ( a rare commodity in this portion of the galaxy) for some merchandise, as well as some food and medical supplies that had mysteriously disappeared from a nearby planet. They were uncloaked and their shields were down, as requested by the Ferengi merchant. They had expected a simple trading agreement. Unfortunately, when Nala Sodex, their Trill chief archeologist, had taken a shuttle to deliver the goods since teronide was too unstable for transport, she was taken captive and now Alandra was ordered to give him the rest of their supply of teronide or Nala would die.  
  
Alandra could tell he was bluffing. He was a typical male Ferengi, motivated by self-interest and greed. If he thought for a moment his life was in danger he'd drop Nala like a hot potato. Which was why, when the situation was extremely tense, Alandra maintained her outward and inward composure. It was a valuable trick her adoptive Vulcan grandfather had taught her, and she was never more grateful for the skill as she was now.  
  
She smoothed back her free hanging reddish blond hair in a gesture of indifference, a gesture designed to make the Ferengi tense. Her words and calm speech had unnerved him, and she knew she would have to play her hand carefully if she were to diffuse the situation peaceably. She had already ordered Je'lahn, her Klingon security officer, to keep a transporter lock on Nala. If worst came to worst, she would beam the woman out and pray the injuries would be minor, but she'd rather not take that chance.  
  
" Don't think I don't know who you are. Your Federation spies sent to frame and arrest Ferengi merchants. I won't go to prison! I won't allow you to cheat me! Give me the teronide and let me go, and maybe I'll consider letting your crewman live. Or I might just keep her myself. I could always use a woman." he said grinning his sharp-toothed grin.  
  
Alandra suppressed a shudder of disgust at the thought of Nala in the care of such a vile creature. And so, desperate but unwilling to show it, she played out her hand. Shrugging, she went over to the command chair and sat down as if she hadn't a care in the world.  
  
"I've already explained to you that we have no connections at all with the Federation. Surely the configuration of our vessel alone would prove that? Still, you're a businessman. You have to secure your own interests. Which is why I am going to give you fair warning. If my crewman is not returned within five minutes, I will fire upon your pathetic little vessel and destroy you. " she said as calmly as if she were discussing the weather.  
  
Then, to her relief, he panicked.  
  
" You wouldn't! Your crewman would die as well! That is against your hew-man ethics!" he screeched.  
  
She shrugged indifferently.  
  
" Federation ethics maybe. But we have no association with the Federation. It will be very simple to find another archeologist. An inconvenience yes, but still not a problem. I can't say the same about the supplies you offered, but then again there are others with equally valuable supplies. In any case, I refuse to discuss this any longer. Return my crewman and we will conclude our business as originally agreed upon. You will be alive and posses twenty kilo's of teronide which will get you a lot of latinum in this portion of the galaxy. Or, you can refuse and die. And as the thirty second rule of acquisition says, you can do no business if you're dead."  
  
He wavered, greed warring with his desire to live. She could taste victory. He was just about to nod his assent, when.....  
  
" Captain, Starfleet ship approaching off the port bow. They're hailing us!" reported Je'lahn.  
  
" What?!" exclaimed Alandra, her composure momentarily forgotten.  
  
" I knew it! I knew it! You are Federation spies! Consider your archeologist deceased!" yelled the hysterical Magon.  
  
" Je'lahn, beam Nala directly to the sickbay, then raise......"  
  
A jolt to the Romulan Bird of Prey cut her off. It sent her reeling across the deck and she had to steady herself on a nearby console.  
  
" Hull breaches on decks three and four. I lost the lock on Nala. That pat'ak has raised his shields again! Our own shields are down to thirty percent!" exclaimed Je'lahn.  
  
" T'nara to the Captain. Alandra, our warp engines are down and Vetak is wounded! What the hell is going on up there?" asked the Romulan engineer.  
  
" Bring us about Doren. Evasive pattern Alpha four." Alandra ordered their female Ferengi pilot.  
  
" Je'lahn, target their shields and weapons array. As soon as you get a lock, beam Nala and the merchandise out of there. T'nara, I need all the power you can divert to the shields. Fire on my mark Je'lahn. Ready.........mark!"  
  
There was a whirring as the Bird of Preys energy weapons sliced through the Ferengi's shields. Soon after, there was another jolt to the ship.  
  
" He sent back an anti-matter pulse through our energy beam!" reported Je'lahn.  
  
" Captain, that pulse caused a feed back in our warp core! We're leaking plasma! Another shot like that and I might have to eject the core!" yelled T'Nara from engineering.  
  
" What about Nala?" asked Alandra.  
  
"Demauk! I still can't get a lock!" reported Je'lahn.  
  
" Captain, the Starship! It's firing on Magon's ship!" exclaimed Doren from the helm.  
  
Indeed, the Starship that had caused so much trouble was now firing at the enemy vessel. Alandra watched with both gratitude and awe as the Starship disabled the Ferengi vessel in two shots.  
  
" Their shields are down! I have a lock! Wait!..there's a problem.....No it's okay; I've got her. I've beamed her to the sickbay Captain, and the merchandise is in the holding bay." reported Je'lahn triumphantly.  
  
" Good work Je'lahn. Get us out of here Doren, full impulse." she ordered.  
  
" Full impulse, aye." responded Doren with a relieved sharp-toothed grin.  
  
" Captain, the Starship has matched our course and speed and is hailing us, but our view screen isn't working." reported Doren.  
  
" Cheep Romulan crap!" muttered Je'lahn under her breath.  
  
" Patch it through audio."  
  
" Channel open."  
  
Alandra sat up a little straighter as she made her welcoming speech, despite the fact that no one could see her. She felt a shiver of apprehension go down her back as she began speaking. For some reason, the ships presence made her extremely uncomfortable.  
  
" This is the Bird of Prey Virtue. I apologize for the inconvenience but our view screen isn't working. I must say that your timing couldn't be worse, but we do appreciate your assistance. Is there something we can help you with?" she asked in her most diplomatic, charming voice.  
  
The response came in a voice that made her pulse rate speed up in uncharacteristic fear, and she suddenly felt violently ill.  
  
" Virtue,. we are looking for Lieutenant Commander Alandra Johnson and were told that she is Captaining this vessel." came the reply.  
  
Alandra could feel the very protective Je'lahn tense behind her. She frowned in confusion. Who, besides Admiral Cartwright, knew they were here? And why would this Captain, whose voice sounded vaguely familiar, be looking for her of all people. And how the hell did he know that she was Captaining a Romulan vessel?  
  
Still uncertain as to the intentions of this Captain, she decided to play her hand close to her chest.  
  
"Might I inquire as to why it is you wish to speak to Commander Johnson?" she asked, taking a seat in her Command chair.  
  
There was a brief pause, in which Doren's Ferengi ears at the helm twitched, a sign of nervousness at sensing her Captains discomfort.  
  
" I'm afraid my business with Commander Johnson is of a confidential nature. Is there some way we can meet aboard one of our vessels? If it is inconvenient for you to leave yours, I would be happy to rendezvous with Commander Johnson aboard your vessel." came the reply.  
  
Alandra almost smiled at the mans cunning. He had easily seen through her facade, and knew exactly whom he was speaking with. He still made her nervous, but since the only way he could have known about her whereabouts was through Admiral Cartwright, (a dear old man who came across tough but was really as soft as Andorian pudding), she figured he was genuine.  
  
Still, a month as a spy on Romulus and Remus made her wary, and she decided it would be best to know exactly whom it was she was speaking to.  
  
" I'm sure we can work something out, but before we go any further, might I inquire as to exactly who it is I am speaking with?" she asked.  
  
The answer so confused and startled her that if she hadn't been sitting down, she surely would have fallen. She now knew why it was the voice had sounded so familiar and had made her feel afraid. A sharp pain, followed by anger, then pain once more, and then severe anxiety followed his response. Je'lahn actually came from behind the Command deck to see if her Captain was all right, a sentimental gesture hardly ever undertook by the Klingon female warrior.  
  
" This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise."  
  
Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Hero, bachelor, heartbreaker, domineering, well educated, second father to Tasha Yar.  
  
All these thoughts bombarded Alandra, but only one thought prevailed.  
  
Does he know? And if he does why, after all this time, of all the times he could have possibly chosen, has my father chosen to show up now?  
  
She shrugged off Je'lahn's sympathetic hand from her arm, and at the hint Je'lahn resumed her station, knowing full well her friend was upset but also recognizing, as a Klingon, the need to preserve her commanding officers dignity. Still, she didn't have to like the Federation Captain who upset her friend.  
  
Alandra's mentally ordered herself to pull together. Sitting up straighter in her command chair, she responded stoically.  
  
" Captain, we are scheduled to deliver some supplies that was stolen by our Ferengi friend here back to it's original owners. The planet is two solar systems over. My Chief Engineer is in the process of repairing our engines, but we should be underway within the hour. If you would care to meet in orbit around the planet aboard my ship, I'm sure Commander Johnson would be happy to oblige."  
  
There was a brief pause as Picard considered her offer. Then, to her relief or anxiety, she couldn't tell which, he responded.  
  
" We will rendezvous within the hour. Have your people relay the co- ordinates. Picard out." Came the crisp reply.  
  
Alandra nodded out of reflex. She wasn't sure if things were going right or wrong, but at least she now had more time to figure things out. She stood up from the Command chair in the dimly lit Romulan bridge, the red battle lights still flashing. Minor damage and one injured crewman, along with the stolen supplies they had originally come for. It could have been worse.  
  
" Je'lahn, stand down from Red Alert and relay the co-ordinance to the Starfleet vessel. I'll be in sickbay if you need me. You have the bridge." She ordered, leaving her chair and preparing to go to the lift.  
  
" Captain......!" started Je'lahn, a look of worry still on her face.  
  
" Yes Lieutenant?" responded Alandra. The use of the woman's rank was her hint that now was not the time to speak of personal matters. Knowing her friend well, Je'lahn took the hint.  
  
" The rest of the crew will be interested to know how Nala is." she covered for her slip.  
  
Alandra nodded.  
  
" I will inform you of her progress. You have the bridge." She reiterated as she entered the lift.  
  
The sickbay was full of tension as she entered. Dr. Teela Salen, a Bajoran, was working frantically on Nala.  
  
" Give her 20 cc's of Metrobofin. We have to reduce the shock!" she ordered her young half-cardassian assistant. Talis, no older than sixteen, immediately applied the medication as ordered. Alandra had been skeptical about her friend's shy assistant, but the young girl had since proved herself to be very intelligent and capable in times of distress. Besides, Alandra hadn't had the heart to separate Teela from her daughter.  
  
" Doctor, report!" ordered Alandra.  
  
Noticing the woman's presence for the first time, Teela looked up from her medical tricorder, a much-appreciated gift from their benefactors, and tried to smile.  
  
" She'll be fine. The symbiont went into shock from the transport. It seems that Ferengi scum had had some sort of device attached to the symbiont so that if Nala was beamed out, the symbiont and her would have been separated. Luckily Je'lahn must have disarmed it before she beamed Nala out. My question is, where the hell did that low life get that kind of technology?" she practically screeched, her Bajoran temper momentarily overriding her professional stoicism.  
  
" The same place he got the other technology we are returning. He stole it. Keep me informed." she said,with one last concerned glance at the woman on the bio-bed.  
  
" Captain......."  
  
" Yes Doctor?" she asked, countering the remark she knew was coming. Her friend had caught the unfamiliar look of worry and was about to comment on it, but like Je'lahn , she took the hint.  
  
" I might need you later. Where will you be?" asked the Doctor, covering for her momentary slip of the tongue.  
  
A shimmer of light interrupted them. Vetak, his half Vulcan, half human body badly burned, was beamed to a bio-bed.  
  
Talis was immediately over there, scanning and mentally preparing a treatment as her mother lost her temper once again.  
  
" Doctor to Engineering. What is wrong with you? I can't do my job properly if you don't beam patients here as soon as they're injured. Why the hell didn't you beam him here sooner?" screeched Teela into her combadge.  
  
" Transporters blew when I had to reroute power to stabilize the warp core. I need Vetak on his feet as soon as possible because I need some major help down here!" yelled back T'nara, a Bajoran temper no match for a royally pissed off Romulan.  
  
" I'll be there in a minute." Responded Alandra, leaving the sickbay as quickly as possible.  
  
Teela shook her head, turned around to find her daughter had already administered the dermal regenerator to the burns on Vetak. She inwardly swelled with pride at her daughters quick thinking and then sighed.  
  
Why couldn't she have served aboard a normal ship?  
  
The answer came to Teela a second later.  
  
She'd be bored to tears aboard a normal ship.  
  
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Even thought the red alert had been canceled, the red claxon lights still flashed in Engineering. Smoke from the plasma leak still filled the air, even thought the environmental controls had been ordered to clear it. T'nara was leaning over a console, frantically punching buttons, doing her best to localize the leak.  
  
" What can I do?" asked Alandra, fully aware that this was not her domain, but still versed enough in engineering skills to be of some help.  
  
Without looking up from her console, T'nara smoothed back parts of her long black hair that had fallen out of its braid and pointed to the next console.  
  
"Reroute power through the main EPS conduits and see if we can use some emergency power to get the warp core back on line." she ordered, a regal air of command coming natural to her.  
  
They worked in virtual silence for the next half hour, and they both whooped with glee when the red claxons stopped flashing, a whirring noise sounded and the warp engines came back online at half power.  
  
" All right, I can get you to warp three, but that's as high as I'm going to allow right now." said T'nara, relief glowing through her dark eyes.  
  
" That's fine." answered Alandra. She tapped her combadge. " Doren, set a course for Davon III, warp three." she ordered.  
  
" Yes Maam!" came the happy response. Their Ferengi pilot was relieved to have things back to normal.  
  
Alandra turned to T'nara and almost had to force a smile.  
  
" I have some research to do. I'll be in my quarters if you need me." she said.  
  
Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have been so brisk with her friend. Maintaining a friendship with a Romulan as a human, especially this Romulan, was difficult under normal circumstances. She had always treated T'nara with the respect she would show an Admiral, for various reasons. Which was why she wasn't surprised when she saw the woman tense and lift her chin arrogantly at being dismissed.  
  
" Wait Alandra!" shouted T'nara.  
  
Alandra turned and raised one of her eyes brows in question.  
  
" Yes Sub Commander?" answered.  
  
T'nara clenched her fists and held her ground. The use of her "rank" was demeaning and served to further enrage her. T'nara was not used to being talked down too or given orders, and even though Alandra was her friend, she refused to take it gracefully.  
  
" Don't you dare try that Starfleet posturing on me, Miss Federation! You and I have had our backs to the walls together on numerous occasions, and if by now I can't tell that something is wrong just by looking....." she started.  
  
Alandra cut her off with a sharp retort.  
  
" I don't want to discuss it!"  
  
" Tough!" responded T'nara. " I am your friend and I have a right to know what is happening. I have risked my position, my life, and possibly my entire future because I believe in what we are doing here. I broke you out of that prison because I saw more than a human; I saw a woman I could respect because she believed in standing up for what is right. And do you remember what we agreed to when we undertook this mission? No secrets!"  
  
" This is personal. It has nothing to do with our mission." responded Alandra.  
  
" Well then, as a friend I think I have the right to know what's bothering you. It has something to do with that Starfleet vessel doesn't it?" asked T'nara, her observational skills ever sharp.  
  
Alandra stared stoically, giving T'nara all the information she needed.  
  
" Okay, so what upset you. From what I understand, the only person you've had contact with is.... oh! Oh my god! That was....it's the Enterprise, isn't it?" asked T'nara, her concern growing leaps in bounds.  
  
Alandra nodded.  
  
T'nara, in a very uncharacteristic sign of affection, pulled her friend into a hug. For the first time in along time, Alandra was touched so deeply that she felt like crying.  
  
" I'm sorry Alandra. I should have realized that seeing that ship would bring back painful memories. What's it been? Seven years? Eight?" she asked.  
  
Alandra shrugged it off. Her friend had the wrong problem.  
  
" If you need to talk, let me know okay? Go and get some rest." ordered the concerned Romulan.  
  
Alandra smiled as she left Engineering. T'nara could be harder than nails and as tactless as a Klingon at targ fighting match, but sometimes she surprised even Alandra.  
  
She took the lift to her quarters that were sparsely furnished with a bed, a desk and a dresser. The only personal items she had was a picture of her grandparents and one holo-image portrait. Alandra walked over to it and turned it on.  
  
Her image never stopped invoking memories. Alandra had been barely eighteen when she had gone to Starfleet Academy, hungry for knowledge, and after a solitary life on Vulcan as one of the very few humans, even hungrier for friends. But her blunt speech and bossy ways had repelled any would be friends she might have had. Then one day, Alandra saw her.  
  
She was medium height, her blond hair cut short, and she was eating alone. A chicken salad sandwich, an apple and a glass of milk sat in front of her. It was the same lunch Alandra had. Standard Starfleet Academy Misfit Camouflage. When you stuck out like a sore thumb, you tended to find different ways of blending in. What you ate was one way.  
  
Alandra was about to approach her, when she noticed the pips on her collar.  
  
The blond girl was a sophomore!  
  
Anguish assaulted her. She thought she had at last found a friend, but a Sophomore? They never gave Freshman a second glance.  
  
Alandra was about to turn away, but at the last minute she decided to give it a try. Mustering up her courage she took her tray and sat down across from the girl at the solitary table.  
  
Startled, blue eyes full of temper looked up to meet green eyes.  
  
" I didn't say you could sit here, freshman!" she spat, as if the word were something gross.  
  
Alandra lifted her chin and defied all that she had learned since entering the Academy.  
  
" I didn't ask your permission, sophomore!" she responded.  
  
To her surprise and utter relief, the girl smiled. Alandra couldn't have known that it was the first time Tasha Yar had smiled since entering the Academy a year ago. Since that moment, despite their differences in class, they were inseparable. Tasha, who had a hard time controlling her temper, relied upon Alandra's calm during tense situations. Alandra, who had the tendency to push herself too far, relied on Tasha to help her relax. They had become the family neither of them had ever had.  
  
By the time Tasha graduated, Alandra had met Nala, a Junior like herself who was an un-joined trill and a good friend to both of them. They all kept in touch after graduation, their bond never diminishing over time. When Tasha had gotten assigned to the Enterprise, Alandra had been both happy for her and nervous. She had never told either of her friends about her father. The communications Tasha sent were about the Captain and how much she considered him to be like a father to her, since she had never known her real father.  
  
She had even told her, albeit reluctantly, about the incident with her fellow officer Data, an android who's career had fascinated Alandra who had an interest in cybernetics.  
  
When Tasha had been killed, Alandra had been on assignment near Bajor, where she had met Teela and Talis. She didn't hear about her friends' death until a month later, when a personal goodbye was sent in the form of a holo- portrait. After receiving it, Alandra took a leave of absence from duty and locked herself in her quarters for over a week. She had lost her sister, and took the time to grieve over the death of one of her family members. After that, she walked around like a zombie a whole month. It wasn't until Admiral Cartwright approached her with an offer that she finally came to terms with her grief.  
  
As if unable to stop herself, Alandra pushed the audio button on Tasha's image. The blond woman was smiling and wearing casual attire, a state that only her closest friends were allowed to see her in. Alandra hadn't known she had left the audio on until she heard Tasha's farewell message.  
  
" Alandra, the memories you have given me have been precious. The friendship you gave me in Academy and since is a debt I could never repay. You've taught me so much about life and how to move on from your past. I know that if it hadn't been for you and Nala, I never would have made it through Academy.  
  
I hate goodbyes as you know, so all I can say is that I hope that your grief will be lessened knowing that I died doing what I loved. Remember me, for that is how I will always be with you. Remember that I am your friend, always and forever, and nothing, not even death, can change that. "  
  
As the last of her words faded, her image faded as well.  
  
Alandra thought it ironic that Tasha had mentioned moving on with her past, and here Alandra was forced to face hers. She remembered all those communications Tasha had sent her about the Captain and how honorable he was. Alandra could only hope she was right. But there was still so much anger and pain to get over. But as Teela would tell her, "Better start now."  
  
She put the holo-image back on the shelf and sighed. The problem was, is "now" twenty-seven years too late?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
1 Chapter Two  
  
  
  
It's him! Him, him, him, him, him! He is here, and look what's happened already. It's all her. He saves HER! I was right. Right , right, right!  
  
The woman sighed at the sight of the small Bird of Prey and the grand Starship Enterprise leaving the site of the wrecked Ferengi vessel.  
  
Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!  
  
I should never have hired that stupid Ferengi. I was told they were greedy, but did I listen? No! Now she's still alive! Alive, alive, alive!! How I hate her! " They" locked me up again because of her. Don't they understand? I'm not a bad person. I'm not doing anything wrong. I just want him! Him, him, him! I need him! I love him! If it had been a boy, I would have made the sacrifice and kept him Doesn't that prove my love and devotion? Doesn't that prove that I am a good person? But it wasn't a boy, it was a girl. And he can only love one woman, and that woman is me. Me, me,me,me!  
  
She smiled sinisterly at the thought of her new plan. Hiring a Ferengi had been stupid, but at least it had bought her more time. The bait was ready, the trap was set, and now all she had to do was wait. Wait for the opportunity to take what was hers. She frowned at the thought of endangering his friends. He would not be happy with that. She didn't want her lover to be unhappy.  
  
But then again, he'll have me. I will be all he needs.  
  
She knew he would forgive her eventually. Love was about forgiveness. She had already forgiven him for saving their daughter, hadn't she? Well, almost. She might make him suffer a little bit for that. Your supposed punish people you love. That's what her father had told her when she was bad. But how could she punish him?  
  
A smile, unknowingly evil, spread across her features.  
  
  
  
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" Come!"  
  
The door to the Captains ready room opened with a whoosh. Deanna Troi, ships counselor, her dark hair hanging straight and loosely over her shoulders, watched her Captain silently as he stared out the ready room window onto the planet below. They had been in orbit around Davon III for over an hour, and the only communication they had had from Commander Johnson's ship had been not to hail the planet because they were handling negotiations and any communication might jeopardize it.  
  
Deanna knew that the waiting was getting to Captain Picard. He was not a patient man in many ways, but this situation was even more unbearable. She was the only one who knew of Commander Johnson's potential relationship with the Captain, besides Doctor Crusher. Picard hadn't felt comfortable talking about it with anyone else since the possibility was uncertain. He had ordered them not to talk about it until things were straightened out.  
  
But Deanna had information for the Captain that was important. She had felt something, and it might be important.  
  
" Yes, Counselor. How can I help you?" he asked, not looking at her but still staring at the blue orb rotating beneath them.  
  
" Captain, I thought you might like to know what I felt from Commander Johnson when you spoke to her. I wasn't able to get much. Being raised on Vulcan has made her mental powers very strong, but for a moment all her defenses dropped and I felt.....a large portion of what was really happening." She answered.  
  
Picard turned in his chair to look at Deanna and gestured for her to sit.  
  
" You believe she thinks I am her father?" he asked, his attention now focused.  
  
She shook her head vaguely.  
  
" I can't be sure Captain. Her crewman was injured, her ship attacked. Her anxiety could be a result of the pressure she was under, but I think it was more than that. As soon as you told her who you were, she reacted as if she was going to be ill. I felt...a jumble of emotions form her. Anger, and fear and confusion all mixed in together. And then one second later I felt nothing from her, as if like a Vulcan she had repressed everything. It was very...unsettling..... to experience all of that emotion and then feel nothing." She replied, hoping she had expressed herself clearly.  
  
Picard frowned.  
  
" What about the rest of her crew? I've been looking over the information Admiral Cartwright gave me and diverse is a mild word for it. A joined- trill science officer, a Klingon security officer, a Romulan Engineer, a Bajoran Doctor, a half-Cardassian nurse, and to top it all of a female Ferengi pilot. The only male on the ship is the first officer, a half- Vulcan named Vetak who went with Commander Johnson undercover on Romulus. In fact, besides the trill Science officer and Commander Johnson, Vetak is the only other Starfleet officer on board. The others are just civilian hirelings. How can a crew like that possibly function?" he asked.  
  
Deanna shook her head in wonderment.  
  
"I'm not sure Captain, but I don't feel any hostility on that ship. In fact, if I had to describe what I feel coming from each member of that crew, it would be.... loyalty, and good will. I don't feel any malice or prejudice. It's...incredible. And refreshing. But I'm not sure how trustworthy that is. I could be mistaking one feeling for another. I won't know until I can actually speak with them. But I do know this Captain. That crew is extremely loyal to Alandra Johnson. Most of them are downright protective. The Klingon security officer had feelings of great malice towards you for upsetting her Captain." She replied.  
  
" Just what I need. Another Klingon security officer mad at me! Could this be a problem we should pay attention to?" he asked.  
  
" I don't know Captain."  
  
Picard nodded.  
  
" Thank you Counselor. I appreciate your input."  
  
With that hint of dismissal, the counselor left Picard alone to his thoughts, which were less than conclusive. He hadn't slept the past two days, partially from the files and reports piled up on his desk, and partly because his mind kept going over the question that haunted him; is she my daughter?  
  
For most of his life he had avoided the ties of family. From past experience with his father and brother, family had represented nothing but a stifling of his freedom. He had avoided emotional attachments as much as possible. Of course, there had been exceptions. He would never forget the shame and guilt that came over him upon discovering he was in love with his best friends wife, Beverly Crusher. Of course, that was earlier in their career. Now, she was a trusted colleague and friend. He had tried to make it more, but she was uncomfortable being anything but friends, and he accepted that.  
  
Other than her, there had been only a few times in which his emotions had been involved to the point of him wanting to settle down. His career had always come first, no matter what. And here he was, one of the most respected Captains in the fleet, captaining the flag -ship with a wonderful crew and friends that will last a lifetime and more. So.... why did the thought of a daughter give him a rush of joy? He had been fooled once before into thinking he had a son. It had turned out to be a ploy to get revenge for a wrong a Ferengi felt Picard had delivered his son. He had been disappointed, and yet in the back of his mind he had breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
But that was before his brother Robert and his nephew Renee' had perished in the fire.  
  
He could clearly remember that day when the news of tragedy had interrupted his fun on the holodeck. He and his brother had had their differences, but they had resolved many of them in their later years. He had loved his brother, and saw a reflection of himself in the youthful enthusiasm of Renee'. The thought of the boy brought a pang of grief to his heart, but he brushed it aside. The time for grieving was over.  
  
" Captain, the Virtue is hailing us. " informed Riker through the comm system.  
  
" On my way, Number One." he responded, leaving his ready room and approaching the bridge. He stood in front of the view screen, adjusted his uniform nervously and then ordered to patch it through.  
  
A Vulcan with blue eyes and an unusual gleam in his eye appeared on the view screen. He was young, and wore civilian clothing, yet he generated an air of authority which was appropriate for a first officer.  
  
" Captain Picard. I must say it is an honor to meet you sir. I apologize, but Captain. I mean.. Commander Johnson is indisposed at the moment, making preparations to beam down to the planet. There is a celebration dinner tonight in our honor and I have been asked to formally invite you and your senior staff to join us tonight at 1900 hours." he said, with the formal stoicism of a typical Vulcan.  
  
Picard smiled diplomatically.  
  
" I would be honored to join you, as would my senior staff, however I would like to remind your.. Captain.. that there is a vital mission that must be completed, and as it seems I am in the dark about many things, I would like to have a private word with Commander Johnson as soon as possible." he retorted, hoping he expressed the urgency of the situation adequately.  
  
The young first officer actually fidgeted before responding.  
  
" Sir, please do not think me rude, but I was told to inform you, should you ask, that the private conference would be held when it was convenient for Commander Johnson and not before. She is handling some very delicate matters that require her immediate attention and are vital to this mission, and until then....she said you would have to exercise some patience. Sir." he responded nervously, as though he were informing God himself to go to hell.  
  
Picard, annoyed but not willing to show it, nodded curtly.  
  
" We will see you at 1900 hours then. Have your people relay the beam down co-ordinates. Picard out." her replied shortly, and immediately the screen went blank.  
  
Data, his emotion chip on and functioning, exclaimed in disbelief,  
  
"Captain, I do not believe that her response was entirely...... respectful. In fact, I have never heard anyone speak to you in such a way. I would have to describe her attitude as extremely....." he broke off, looking for the proper adjective.  
  
" Gutsy" supplied Riker, a look of disbelief on his features as well.  
  
Picard nodded.  
  
" I'll be in my ready room if you need me number one. I expect all senior officers to be in dress uniform and waiting at the transporter at exactly 1900 hours. Understood?" he asked his senior staff assembled on the bridge.  
  
There was a murmurings of "yes sirs", and he quietly retired to his ready room, missing the look of suspicion that crossed Data's features at Picard's strange behavior as of late.  
  
Gutsy, Picard thought to himself as he resumed his seat at his desk. Yes, that described her. And she had not only proved gutsy, but so far the young woman had displayed an air of authority that he could respect. He pushed the uncomfortable sensation of butterflies in his stomach away. Why should he be nervous about meeting this woman who may or may not be his daughter? The answer came unbidden. Because I hope she really is my daughter.  
  
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The Davonians were usually a very friendly, affectionate people who welcomed outsiders with open arms. This changed however, when a Ferengi merchant came and took advantage of their hospitality by steeling some artifacts from their temple, which were sacred. Which was why, when Alandra and her crew showed up professing peace and wishing only for information about some of their legends, the people of Danon III were less than hospitable. The President had immediately apologized, explained the situation and told Alandra that if she could see of some way to get the artifacts back for them, they would be eternally grateful and would provide them with all the information they needed.  
  
Having been fully versed in the culture, ( thanks to Nala), the crew of Warbird Virtue, their mission complete, expected the warm reception. The President, a short young woman with blond hair and large, black circles marking her fair skin, greeted each crewmember with a hug, a necklace of flowers and a smile. They couldn't help but be infected with happiness and goodwill. Even Je'lahn, who most of the time looked like she was ready for battle, could get into the spirit of happiness. The people knew how to party and were passionate about everything they did, something which she, as a Klingon, could respect.  
  
Since the President insisted, Alandra made a big deal about returning the sacred artifacts, a golden horse-like figure, a green stone similar to an emerald and a jagged old stone with writing on it that looked almost like a puzzle piece. The people surrounding them, each dressed in a toga like robe, irrupted in cheers and broke out the wine. The revelry began.  
  
" You will all stay in the grand palace tonight, along with your friends from the other ship. However, I must ask that tonight you join the festivities which are going to be held in your honor. We will discuss your questions tonight over dinner. You may inform your friends to beam down as soon as you wish. We will be honored to have them as our guests." informed the President in a soft voice.  
  
After the initial ceremony of returning the artifacts had taken place, Alandra and her crew were escorted back to the palace and dressed to match the other occupants of the planet. Which was why, when Je'lahn relayed the message for the Enterprise away team to beam down, Alandra was not present to witness the spectacle of Picard dealing with this incredibly friendly culture.  
  
He forced himself to count backwards to ten as he stepped on the transporter padd. Data, Troi, Riker, Laforge and Crusher were all with him, and his nervousness did not escape their attention. Troi squeezed his arm in a reassuring gesture, and though he was touched by her concern, her cleared his throat loudly to indicate that he was perfectly all right, a lie which none of them bought.  
  
Data had given them a brief summery of Davonian culture, but nothing could have prepared Picard or the other crew for the mass of people who greeted them in what looked like the town square, nor for the hug that a short, blond women delivered them all, along with flower necklaces and a kiss on each cheek. He felt as if he was a war hero returning home to his family.  
  
Remembering his objective he scanned the crowd for a woman who resembled the picture he had seen, but found only toga dressed people with grins on their faces.  
  
" Welcome, oh honorable ones. We, the people of Davon, wish to thank you for your efforts on our behalf. You have already missed the ceremony of the returning of the sacred ones to the temple, but you are just in time for the festivities. Come, and I will show you your rooms. You will stay with me tonight in the grand palace, and we shall break bread together. Until then, you may freshen up for tonight. The golden circle already sets low in the west." she instructed.  
  
Picard smiled, and said diplomatically.  
  
" I was hoping to speak with Commander Johnson." he said.  
  
The woman immediately looked like a chastened child.  
  
" I did not wish to displease you, honorable ones. Please forgive me, but the Returners, those you call the crew of the Virtue, have asked to delay your meeting until after the festivities tonight. I pray that this is to your satisfaction." she asked, looking as if she would cry if he said he was displeased.  
  
He sighed. What could he do? The woman was delaying their meeting as long as possible, something that irritated him no end. He was used to being in control of the situation, but it appeared that Alandra was this time.  
  
Not wishing to offend the young woman, he smiled his thanks, and they were immediately led away to the palace, where it was practically insisted upon that they daughn the toga's that everyone else wore, on the grounds that it would be more comfortable. Everyone did as they were asked. Counselor Troi, affected by the good will of those around her, wore a broad grin as she pranced around in her toga like a Greek princess. Laforge and Riker looked a tad bit uncomfortable, a state Picard could sympathize with, while Data looked absolutely intrigued and in awe by the chaos surrounding him. His grin matched Deanna's as they were led outside into a large square. A bonfire was ablaze, with a circle of dancers singing and throwing flowers in the air.  
  
Several large tables lined with snacks and drink was in several places. Picard let the guards escort them to the young President who was seated on the ground, surrounded by elderly looking men who looked at the revelry as though it were an immortal sin. Picard and his crew sat down in the same area and watched in fascination as what sounded like Celtic music played and the dancers became even more revved up. He was about to lean over and ask the President if Commander Johnson was around, unsure if she could hear him for all the noise, when he spotted what surely was a Ferengi among the dancers.  
  
He blinked, certain he was dreaming, but sure enough, the circle of dancers came by again, and he saw a female Ferengi in a toga, dancing and smiling as though she hadn't a care in the world.  
  
"Captain." said Data beside him. Data pointed and directed Picard's attention to a Klingon in the far corner. She held a glass of what looked like wine and swallowed it in one gulp, and then started to clap joyously with the beat.  
  
But the biggest shock of all came when the tempo slowed and the dancers formed an enormous circle around the bonfire. The danced around it slowly, and then the tempo gradually sped up. It was then that Data directed Picard's attention to the Romulan. Her long black hair was loose over her shoulders and had several ribbons in it, with glitter allowing the dark trellises to shine. Her Romulan ears and facial distinctiveness was easy to spot, and both Data and Picard watched in utter amazement as the Romulan laughed in utter glee as she was flung around to the point of falling on the ground.  
  
Truth to tell, T'nara had never had so much fun in her life. Romulan's didn't party very much, and when they did it was usually void of music and dancing, and consisted more of torture of a convicted criminal. T'nara couldn't remember dancing or music or care free laughter. Growing up in the palace where laughter was never heard.....  
  
She blocked those thoughts out of her mind and looked around, happy to see her fellow crewmates enjoying the festivities. She frowned when she felt a pair of eyes on her, and turned quickly to see a golden skinned.thing.watching her, sitting beside a bald man. She recognized the man immediately of course, and glanced around quickly to see if Alandra was around. She didn't see her, and decided that her friend had better be informed about Picard's presence.  
  
On her way to leave, she bumped into Vetak.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Vetak. Are you all right?" she asked.  
  
He looked at her semi-drunken state and raised his left eyebrow.  
  
" I am fine your.. you're not hurt are you?" he asked.  
  
She smiled, and in her intoxicated state, did nothing to squelch the butterflies in her stomach as she caught his steady, blue-eyed gaze.  
  
" I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about. Are you sure you should be here? Those injuries would keep a Klingon of his feet for a month!" she said, doing her best to keep the ground from swaying underneath her.  
  
Vetak, aware of her intoxicated state, held out a hand to steady her. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and she smiled almost seductively.  
  
" I received a clean bill of health from the Doctor Teela. However, I believe it is you who have had a bit too much of that wine, and need to sit down." He said, ignoring her smile guiding her away from the dancers and helping her too sit on a grassy nole near bye. She smiled up at him drunkenly.  
  
" Are you sure you don't need someone to take care of you, Vetak? Your always so strong, so self-assured. Your half Vulcan, so I suppose that means you don't need anybody, but don't you ever get lonely?" she asked, her dark eyes looking up at him questioningly.  
  
She could have been mistaken, but she could have sworn his face turned a bit reddish-green. He still stared at her stoically, and spoke as if he hadn't heard her last comment.  
  
" I will leave you here and send someone to escort you to your room. Alandra will be a bit disappointed that you cannot join us tonight, but she will understand. Wait here, T'nara. I will return."  
  
He left her sitting on the grassy nole, with her staring after him in unconcealed longing. Alandra had been watching the exchange silently from a distance. She had known of T'nara's feelings for Vetak for quite sometime, but had never expected until this moment that they were reciprocated. But she knew her old child-hood friend too well, and she had seen him flush and had seen that look in his eyes, the same look he had had when going through his first Pan Pharr. Since that terrible tragedy however, he had never pursued a relationship with a member of the opposite sex, so why, out of all the people to pick, did it have to be T'nara?  
  
She shook her head at the inevitable pain her friends would face and then sighed. Alandra was standing in the corner, her red hair flowing down to her shoulders in waves, dressed in a toga that made her feel like Antigone, and sipping some very good spiked punch. She had recently spoken with the Prime Minister, and had been informed that Picard and his crew would be joining the festivities tonight. She had scanned the crowd for him, and watched with pounding heart as he had taken a seat next to the President and her Minister's of Religion.  
  
She had seen him scanning the crowd for her, and had ducked out of sight behind a group of young girls who were pointing and staring at the pale skinned man beside the Captain. Alandra, fairly certain they couldn't see her from behind the small crowd, peered out and saw where the young girls were pointing.  
  
At first, Alandra had difficulty recognizing him as anything other than another human. And then she saw the paleness of his skin. So what? she thought. Albinos were pale too! As if he had felt her watching him, he turned around and met her stare dead on. Her blue-gray eyes met his golden ones briefly, before she ducked behind the girls again, out of sight.  
  
Had he recognized her? She hoped not. She had no wish to speak to Picard before the dinner tonight at the palace. The thought of speaking with her..her.with the Captain sent her pulse racing once more. She was usually such a calm person in a crisis, so why did it feel as though...  
  
"Excuse me but.."  
  
She turned, and found herself almost bumping into the man whose eyes she had met only second's before. He was taller than Tasha had described. His dark hair was slicked back and his pale skin almost matched the deep white of his toga. She met his gold eyes once more, and they met hers with a curious yet serious expression. For some reason, she smiled. Tasha had also failed to mention that he was cute.  
  
" Yes?" she asked, praying to God that he wouldn't ask her to go and speak with his Captain.  
  
With an expression of the utmost seriousness, he said,  
  
" ...did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"  
  
She felt her eyes go wide and her mouth fell open. She had never been rendered speechless before. Of all the conversations she had imagined upon meeting the android, she had never in her wildest dreams imagined this.  
  
" I..I." she started, but couldn't think of a thing to say.  
  
" What is a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked.  
  
Again, she was speechless, completely befuddled. It was obvious that he was practicing the worst pick up lines ever imagined on her, but for some reason a smart retort couldn't make it past her lips. And so she stared, almost openmouthed and entirely speechless, as Data, looking a bit disheartened at her lack of enthusiastic response, but still determined, tried yet again.  
  
" I know you must be tired, because you have been running through my mind all.."  
  
"DATA!!"  
  
Data was interrupted by Geordi, who walked quickly to his friend's side, and looking not a little embarrassed, grabbed his friend and pulled him aside.  
  
" What the hell are you doing, Data?" he hissed, hoping that the pretty red-haired woman hadn't been too offended. The last thing they needed was some lady screaming sexual harassment!  
  
" I am sorry Geordi, but you did encourage me to associate with the opposite sex a bit more. I was merely putting into practice a book I downloaded from the ships database. "Five Hundred Ways to Pick Up Women". In this book, there is an entire chapter on opening lines, and..."  
  
" Data! Although I think it's wonderful that your trying so hard, I think that there are more appropriate places, and using a book with..."  
  
But it was Geordi who was interrupted, this time by the laughter of the redhead Data had approached. She giggled uncontrollably for about a minute before wiping her eyes and approaching the two of them. She wore a huge grin on her face as she turned to Geordi.  
  
" Please don't be too hard on him. I must say I was a bit shocked at first, but I seriously haven't heard anything that bad since High School!" she said, erupting into laughter once more.  
  
Data frowned, disheartened.  
  
" I am afraid laughter was not the response I was going for." he said.  
  
She immediately died down her giggles and squeezed his arm reassuringly.  
  
" Mr. Data, I'm sorry. I'm flattered really, but next time, why don't you try a simple 'hello, how are you?' and go from there, okay? I'm afraid whoever wrote that book you read needed to spend more time dating and less time writing about it. Wouldn't you agree Mr. LaForge?" she asked.  
  
Geordi, who had been more than relieved that the redheaded lady was being nice about it, frowned in confusion. How did she know their names?  
  
" I don't think we've been properly introduced?" Geordi asked.  
  
Surprisingly, she just smiled.  
  
" No we haven't. I'll see you around though. I'm glad I met you Mr. Data. I must say it was.....intriguing."  
  
With that she left, moving gracefully out of sight, leaving Geordi shaking his head and Data looking somewhat bewildered. 


End file.
